Day 7, Saturday — Waiting, Watching, in Wonder

Read Psalm 90 and 130

Appalachian Trail -- Allentown Shelter
Appalachian Trail, Allentown Shelter (Pennsylvania)

There is joy after tears when tears are humble.
May all your tears flow from a humble heart.

A Morning Prayer of Lament

Taking Psalm 90 Personally

6205 days left.
Six thousand two hundred days left.
Six-thousand-two-hundred-days left.
I can’t stretch them.
Only You know if they or more are allotted to me.
Or maybe just today.

If Your mercy to me 
is as wonderful as it was to my father, 
the sand in the top of the hourglass is 6205 days.

None knows their death day.
Birthdays are certified on paper certificates.
But one day BD and DD will be carved on stone,
and separated by a hyphen.
Our days are swept away like dust.
And only You know them all.

You’ve seen all the days before–
20,440 plus of mercy granted
So few,      so few,     used well . . .

Oh God teach me to number my remaining days
Oh give me wisdom to use them well.
Give me morning joy
Give me eyes to see Your hand
Give me a heart that delights in Your might
for as many days as You will give.    Selah.”

© Marty Schoenleber, Jr. 2010

cf. Psalm 90

A Mid-day Prayer of Lament

 “Lord, will You be angry with us forever?
Must we live under the thumb of Your discipline?
O God, put aside your indignation toward us and restore us again.
Lord, let Your steadfast love and faithfulness meet
and let righteousness and peace kiss each other.
How can we survive otherwise?
Save us O God and make us a beacon to the nations.”

cf. Psalm 85:5-10

An Evening Prayer of Lament

There is a Waiting

There is a waiting,
That is not waiting at all.

There is a waiting that is all busy, movement, and anxiety
..             and preoccupied struggle,
..             and distracted waste,
..             and time filled with impatience
..                                           and complaining
..                                           and self-pitying angst.
There is a waiting that doesn’t wait at all.
It just watches time pass.
It deals time away like so many cards in a mindless game of rummy,
nnnas if moments and breaths were less than pennies in value.
But there is a waiting that waits.
,,,,Its hope is deep.
Its confidence is not easily shattered.

 Its fulfillment is a joyous relief.
 It anticipates.
 It longs.
 Its tears are not in vain.
 Its vindication is sure.
Our souls are being trained for this waiting.
Our souls are being trained by this waiting.
“My soul waits for the Lord,
..         more than the watchman for the morning.
Indeed, more than the watchman for the morning.”
My soul waits for the Lord.
O God, make us wait well.
Make us wait for You to rescue.

cf. Psalm 130 

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